Yes.”
“Melissa.”
“Yes.”
“And Rachel through Samuel.”
“Yes.”
“Ava through Melissa.”
“Yes.”
“Vance has none.”
“No.”
Then why had Vance said there was a third branch?
Arthur hesitated.
“There could be another descendant of Thomas.”
My stomach dropped.
“No.”
Dorothy whispered, “Tom.”
I looked at her.
She was pale.
“Before Melissa…”
“No.”
“Before we got married…”
“No.”
She touched my hand.
“You dated someone in college.”
Of course I remembered.
Margaret Ellis.
One year.
Then she moved to Oregon.
“She wrote me after we got engaged,” Dorothy said.
“What?”
“You never saw the letter.”
“Why?”
“I hid it.”
The room went still again.
Dorothy started crying.
“She said she was pregnant.”
I stood.
“You hid that from me?”
“I was twenty-two.”
“Dorothy.”
“I was afraid.”
“You had no right.”
“I know.”
Samuel looked almost amused by the cosmic absurdity of it.
“Apparently secrecy is hereditary.”
I ignored him.
“What happened
